Just a Little Crazy
by straha86
Summary: A side story to another that I'm working on, not yet posted. Set behind the eyes, so to speek, of a slightly psychotic abnormal. OC, M for Violence, Torture, and Death


I do not, unfortunately own Sanctuary. I make no profit from the posting of this story. Any character similarities are entirely coincidental. Special thanks to andrea16465, my beta.

*****

There's a hundred eyes all looking at me, a hundred ears listening to whispered conversations about me. I can hear all of them.

"Due to years physically handicapped by both the inability to hear and see, your honor, the defendant has been mentally and emotionally scarred. My client pleads not guilty by reason of insanity."

He thinks I can't hear. He thinks I've been driven insane by the fact that I had my eyes burned out and nails driven into my ears by my parents. They told everyone that the devil was whispering evil thought into my ears and showing me terrible dreams when I described my preacher of a father playing his "games" in the back room of the church. They said I was crazy.

Both he and my mom got off with insanity, why shouldn't I? After all, who would believe that I was hearing through my father's ears… seeing through his eyes as he drugged those boys.

I'm not really paying attention to what everyone within a hundred feet of me is seeing and hearing. I've gotten pretty good at ignoring everyone around me. That's not saying that I don't see or hear anything though. There are those two girls in the back row of the courtroom. They think they're being quiet, and they are really, but I can still hear them. The whispered comment "That guy is so crazy, he killed 7 people and then rambled on like a moron to the police when they found him covered in blood, and now he's gonna spend the next 50 years in some ritzy psycho ward, and the taxpayers are footing the bill."

I don't like being called crazy. That's what they called my dad.

Eventually the jury tells the judge that I really am crazy. How rude is that? Everyone in the room is saying it. Even that piece of shit lawyer 5 feet from me is whispering that to his aide. There's something funny about his aide. I heard him talking behind his boss' back one time about how some test was inconclusive. Even now, he's hiding in the bathroom telling someone on the phone what route they are planning to use when they take me back to jail.

From the sound of it I don't really have much to lose, since someone is coming to my rescue in approximately 57 minutes.

The police officer handling me should have been paying better attention to keeping me restrained. These shackles are hardly enough to stop me.

The bindings are around my wrists, with a chain connecting my wrists to a similar restraint around my ankles. All it takes is raising my elbow up and spinning fast enough and catching my deadbeat public defender in the throat fast enough. I can feel my elbow crush his windpipe. I can feel the cartilage of his adam's apple fall apart. Too bad no one has good enough ears to actually hear the semi hard tissue be destroyed. It is, however, gratifying to see it all happen through almost everyone in the courtrooms eyes.

It is even better seeing myself through my lawyers eyes. Standing over him. He can hear himself trying to breathe. I wonder what it would be like to be a true telepath. Would I enjoy the feeling of terror as his life slips away from him as much as I enjoy the sight?

And look. He's going to be alive long enough to see the cop bash my head in. I always like being unconscious, it's the only time if get to see through my own non-existent eyes.

*****

"Ah, I see you're waking up. How are you feeling?"

These are my rescuers? I'm strapped down to a very uncomfortable metal table and there's only a single person close enough for me to see and hear through. How much do these people know about me?

That one person is talking to me in a pitch black room. I can't see anything. I can only hear her voice and the sound of her breathing.

"Don't bother trying to pretend that you can't hear me. The room is very well lit, I'm wearing a blindfold to prevent you from seeing anything for the time being. However I have people communicating with me through other means that you are apparently unaware of. So stop insulting my, and more importantly, my associates' intelligence."

This isn't good. Whoever the lawyer was working for must have known far more about me then I thought. He set me up.

"Apparently you are quite stubborn, so I will give you a taste of what happens whenever I feel you're lying or withholding information from me. I assume you can still feel things attached to yourself. Note that there are electrodes attached strategically across your body."

And with that, and barely having enough time to figure out what she's referring to, the most intense pain I have ever felt erupts across my groin.

When it stops, I hear through her ears "That was one of the lesser punishments I have available at my disposal. If you do not cooperate, I will spend a great deal of time utilizing some of the more interesting settings on you, until you are dead, and then we'll skip straight to dissecting your brain in order to figure out what we want to know. So again, how are you feeling?"

I guess I took too long trying to compose an answer, because rather than asking again, she removes her blindfold. For the first time I get to see myself. I am indeed strapped down to a metal table that resembles a hospital bed. Her eyes seem to focus on a small tray next to the table. On it are numerous tools, some of which I recognize: a scalpel, medical scissors, and forceps.

As she walks closer to the table, her eyes seem to be drawn to a small instrument that resembles the tool used to remove corks from bottles.

"Since you're being uncooperative, I guess I should tell you that I lied. I'm not going to kill you any time soon." And with that she grabs the corkscrew and presses it into my leg, halfway between my knee and thigh, and activates it.

She conversationally informs me that they need tissue samples. Usually biopsies on bone marrow are performed under local anesthesia, but, as she puts it, she likes how I've worked over some of the people I've punished. She likes my style. So she drills a whole, through my flesh, and into the bone in my leg.

When she finishes tearing the chunk out of my leg, her eyes seem to be drawn to something on her side. She catches herself before truly looking at it, and I think this must be the remote control used to control the machine that causes pain.

"I must be getting careless in my old age. This wonderful little contraption is hooked into almost all of the nerves in your body. Not only can I cause extreme pain with it, but varying degrees of it, and I can set the computer to do it all automatically. It can also cause pleasure. I think I'll leave you for a while so you can experience the full range of possibilities."

With that I hear a soft click, and a pain similar to a muscle cramp begins to form in my good thigh, while the leg she took the biopsy from begins to feel like its receiving a relaxing massage. My captor then turns for the room's only exit, and just before reaching it, sets her blindfold on her face again.

I hear the door open and close, and hear her footsteps as she walks away. I can hear her brushing up against something metallic, and soon she passes completely out of range.

For someone with no sense of sight, or hearing, being left alone can quickly get overwhelming. Most would simply fall asleep to avoid the feeling of complete nothing that quickly ensues. But the cramp in my leg is progressively getting worse. Keeping me awake.

In this state there is very little sense of the passage of time. The pain in my leg crests at extreme before disappearing entirely. Before I can sleep, the accursed machine starts a similar process in my abdomen. Then my arms. My chest. The sensation of the biopsy is repeated. To prevent becoming acclimated to pain in general the machine causes my sides to tickle. It goes on, varying the sensations. Preventing sleep. Preventing relief. Leaving me alone, entirely, devoid of any outside stimulation other then pain and pleasure.

After an eternity, it seems, a presence appears just on the boarder of my perception. How they ever managed to measure it so accurately when I have never managed is beyond me.

The lingering, close enough for the barest hints of sensation, without actually coming in range is unbearable. I would have never realized that the halfway point would be worse than nothing at all.

As the presence takes the step into range I'm assaulted by the most vibrant sights and sounds it seems. But it's not my tormentor. The sight I see down the hallway is too close to the ground. It barely comes up to the railing set along the wall.

Through this unknown persons ears, I hear the gasping, crying out in pain. They glance down at their side. There is fresh blood soaking through the hospital gown that they are wearing. The slightness of the arms indicates a child, though right now that's all I know.

As they stumble down the hallway, every door is tried. Peering inside them, all are empty of anything.

Without any frame of reference, I'm unsure when this person will get to the room I'm in. Or even if it's the same hallway my room is attached to. But I can hope.

After countless doors she finally opens mine, and I can finally hear her delicate voice. "Mister, please, I need help." Her eyes finally rest on my eye sockets, devoid of anything, and my ears, with they're scars. She must now think that I'm unable to hear anything.

And even though her savior has now turned into a burden, she demonstrates the purity of children, and still comes to my aid. She releases my restraints, and pulls the electrodes free of my body. I'm instantly assaulted by the true sensations of my body. The throb of my leg, the small areas where the hair was just ripped out because of the tape.

I reach out to her awkwardly, with only one point of reference I can't see what I'm reaching towards. She grabs my hand and tries to pull me to my feet. "Come on mister, we need to get out."

She drags me to the door, staggering herself because of her injuries. I lift her up to carry her so she won't exhaust herself, and she thanks me.

I believe this is the closest I've come to having normal sight and hearing. There is only a single set of eyes, at roughly the correct height. And a single set of ears. I soon realize that it's not a normal set of ears, however. Even before I can see through their eyes, through her I can hear pursuit.

As we turn a corner, we finally come to the grandest sight I have ever seen. An exit sign. And not a moment too soon, as I can now see our pursuers, at least seven so far.

Outside is trees. As far as the one important set of eyes available to me can see. With nothing better to try, we set out into the woods. I don't know how far I carried that little girl, but all too soon, the slow, but continuous loss of blood from her side must have caught up with her.

She closes her eyes and looses consciousness. I try to shake her awake, but with no luck. I am again without a useful set of eyes. Only that of the men and women chasing us. And soon, even the pass us by. And I'm once again alone. Unable to handle it so soon, I lose what little grasp on sanity I retained and drift into a nightmare filled sleep that I cannot wake from.

*****

Finally to my last waking moments, as the beasts jaws close around my neck.

I had finally woken up from my nightmares to another nightmare. I see as an animal sniffs along the ground, hunting for something. Normally I never experience the sensation from animals, so I know this must be different. As it rounds a corner, the monsters eyes lock on the little girl. There are no sounds of breath from her. She's covered in blood. And then the creature sees me. Also covered in blood.

Just before it closes is teethe around my neck, three more people get close enough for me to hear and see through them.

They are calling out "Henry!"

**AUTHORS NOTES:**

I came up with this little side story while writing a more "TV" centered sanctuary story. My preference is to post only when I complete something, so really the only reason I posted this is because it can stand alone as its own fic and thus allowing me to use it as a means to test my writing style.

Flames are readily accepted, CC will be ignored LOL JK. Both are hoped for, as this is my first fic that I've ever written.


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